


DJ dead dayz

by HonestCriminal



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Fan Characters, Fanon, OC, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonestCriminal/pseuds/HonestCriminal
Summary: When french DJ, Rain’s murder case goes unsolved, his sister, Melydia has no choice but to get a confession. But when the murderer’s own confession doesn’t do - she turns to where she can get a real one, her own dead brother. She sets out to make a deal with the devil to meet with her brother in hell but first... she’s going to need someone to break a contract. That someone is none other than the leader of Gorillaz, Murdoc Niccals... and it’s not going to be easy.





	DJ dead dayz

A small framed girl walked her way up the steep hill, past all the rotting graves leading up to the building. Her arms swung confidently at her side as she stormed up to the front door of a place directed by Satan himself. She let out an annoyed sigh before she brought her fist up to the door and banged on it; hard. 

There was music coming from inside, that music becoming much louder when the door swung open.

“What the- Who the hell are you?” a man asked, his posture was leaned back slightly; staring down the girl with heterochromic eyes. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips.

Her breath caught in her chest for a moment, the creepiness yet confident vibes coming from him made her suddenly uncomfortable. She managed to get her breath again before opening her mouth, “Break the contract,” she spoke, exuding confidence in herself; even though it was almost fake now compared to the man’s in front of her.

The man pulled the cigarette from his lips and laughed, a croaky and husky laugh, “Contract?” he asked. “I gotta lotta contracts, sweetheart, you’re gunna have to be a little more specific.” He paused, quickly shushing her before she could even speak, “Wait, who the hell are you to tell Murdoc Niccals what to do.”

So, getting his name was easier than expected. The upside down cross around his neck and tattooed on his shoulder made it obvious to her that this was the person she was looking for.

“I’m not telling,” she spoke up again, “I’m ordering. Break your contract with Satan.”

“Well…” he laughed again, that sickly, obvious smoker laugh, “maybe… we can talk this over in my crib? My bed sheets are-“

“What?!” she snapped now. “Ew, no!”

“Wow, that was rude. Too rude, don’t you think?” he growled, baring his shark like teeth before crossing his arms.

“I’m being polite about this… M-Mr Niccals,” she spoke before a sigh left her purple lipstick stained lips. 

“And I’m being polite when I tell you-“ he leaned in closer to her, “fuck off then.” 

**_SLAM._ **

The girl jolted back, her hand going to her chest in shock. “That son of a…” She banged her hand on the door again. Much harder than before, “Open the door, you piece of-!”

The door then opened again, but this time, it was someone new. This man was taller, much taller than the other one. His hair was bright blue, his eyes were black; the entirety of it. Hollow. He looked tired… and timid. “‘Ello? Can I ‘elp you, miss?” he finally spoke up, his voice matched that timidness she noticed. Kind and high pitched, a certain Essex accent slang fell off his lips more than the other british man who slammed the door in her face.

“I-“ she fell quiet for a moment before inhaling, “that man from before… I need to speak with him!”

“Murdoc?” the blue haired man asked. “Uh... I can try bu’ I dun’ think he wants to talk to anyone right now. Jus’ saw ‘im storm off. Jus’ typical, ain’t it?” He let out a sigh. “You a guest of ‘is? Like… a lady guest? ‘Cause I ain’t judgin’ if you are! I’m just askin’ ‘cause Murdoc gets _pretty_ annoyed when strangers just ‘iddle in. Las’ time, I got a black eye from that stupid old sod.”

The girl stood there, her singular pupil narrowing at the tall man. He really did ramble on about pretty much nothing. And the heavy Essex accent made it a little hard to understand. “A-A guest…” she mumbled. “Yes, I’m a guest. If you could just… lead me to where he is…”

“O’ ‘course, miss!” the man smiled. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The girl walked inside as the man opened the door wider for her, “M- Melydia. ...Mel.”

“Mel,” he replied, his black eyes watching her walk in, “jus’ follow me.”

Her singular pupil was glued to this man’s eyes; “What happened?” she asked, blurting out her thoughts.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Sorry, I… your eyes.”

“Oh! Well, like I said before, that Murdoc likes to throw his frickin’ hands about whenever he feels like it. Bastard got me,” he explained, pointing to his eyes as the two walked down a hallway. “You think me, 2D, gets any rest whilst around such a person like Murdoc?”

 _”2D…?_ ” she thought. “I see…”

“Stay ‘ere, I’ll get ‘im for you,” the tall, blue haired man walked away, a sway in his slow walk. 

Melydia looked to the couch in the living room, it looked… pretty gross. Was all of England like this? A disgusted expression was clear on her face as she looked away. She didn’t plan on staying anyway.

**_SLAP._ **

“FLIPPIN’ HECK!” that small voice from before yelped from a room down the hall.

“YOU LET HER IN, YOU IDIOT?”

Melydia quickly jogged down the hall to where she heard the slapping sound. With no hesitation, she opened the door, “What the hell is going-“ Her soft French accent fell instantly.

Murdoc turned to her, the taller man standing behind him with an already forming bruise on his face, “So, you managed to charm this idiot into lettin’ you in ‘ere, huh?”

“W-What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?!” she exclaimed.

“You jus’ think you can waltz into my fucking house demandin’ I do shit for you without any kinda payment?” the raven haired man asked rhetorically. 

“Well-“

“ _...Heh. I like you._ ”

“...What?” Melydia frowned, confused. This… bastard really was unpredictable. No wonder Satan himself told her to stay away from him.

“Pay no mind to this frickin’ pedro, miss,” 2D’s voice spoke up from behind the man. “He really talks big for a guy who’s only 5’7.”

**_SMACK._ **

Murdoc’s hand collided with 2D’s face again, “I’m 6’, you twerp!”

“I’m 5’4’’, you're not that much taller than me,” Melydia spoke up. “And stop with the hitting! I am not going to leave until you break your god forsaken contract!”

“You’re persistent,” Murdoc’s voice got lower than usual followed by his typical groan. “Give me a reason why.”

“Nani kore desu ka?” A small girl speaking Japanese wandered into the living room.

“Noodle, I’m advising you to go back to your room whilst I deal with our… intruder,” Murdoc spoke up again, his eyes not leaving Melydia.

“Intruder?!” she exclaimed with a heavy Japanese accent, “Honto?! Nani nozonde iru no ka?!”

“Yes, intruder-“

“Not an in’ruder! I-I dun’ think…!” 2D exclaimed. “She seems nice, what’s ev’n the big deal?”

“I want Murdoc to break his contract with Satan,” Melydia spoke confidently.

“And I said…” Murdoc stepped forward, a serious expression crawled to his face, “give. me. a. reason.”

“You’re only contracted with him because you’re… because you’re an asshole!” she furrowed her brows, clearly annoyed now. “I _have_ a reason to have a _real_ contract!”

“Then fuckin’ get one, darlin’, I’m not stopping you, am I?”

“I can’t unless you discard yours!” she blurted out. 

“Then you’ll have to find another way to get what you want, huh?”

Melydia grit her teeth in anger, her fists balling at her side.

A smirk crawled to the man’s lips, “My bed is still an opti-“

**_SMACK._ **

“ ** _Vous êtes écœurant!_ **” Melydia‘s hand swatted against the man’s face. “I’ll force your hand on that contract if I have to!” She turned quickly and stormed off.

“Good luck, sweetheart!” that voice called out to her once more before she slammed the door.

“Satan, he’s worse than you!” she snapped out loud as she walked away, her arms straight at her side.

“You friends with her?” 2D asked, turning to Murdoc. “No, can’t be.” He scoffed before turning away, his hands going into the pockets of his jeans, “She’s too nice to deal with your crap.”

Just as Murdoc was going to raise his fist, a hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Leave him alone,” a dark voice spoke up from behind Murdoc.

“‘Fanks, Russ…” 2D mumbled.


End file.
